The Princess and the Wolf
by The Fandom Equestrian
Summary: One-shots centered around Shuri and Bucky adoptive-sibling fluff. Taking all requests!
1. Undeserving

**Hey, all! This is my new oneshot collection. There's just not enough Bucky x Shuri goodness out there. And yes, this will all be 100% platonic. I won't hate on anyone who ships them romantically, and I know that in some African countries the age of consent is 16… Buuut I won't be writing any of that. As a person living in a country where sixteen is underage, I'd just feel more comfortable not sexualizing her. I hope everyone understands!**

 **I will be taking ALL requests given to me, so leave 'em here!**

* * *

 **Undeserving**

Getting to live, breathe, and heal in Wakanda was truly therapeutic. King T'Challa and especially his younger sister, Shuri, had been godsend for the broken Prisoner of War. There was far too much red in his ledger to be wiped clean by a little vacation, but sometimes he was able to forget that he was a killing machine and focus on getting to know the nation's unique culture and way of life. It was unlike anything he'd ever seen before.

He'd been expected to be treated like an outsider, but that wasn't the case. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Aside from gaining the nickname 'White Wolf' and being laughed at (mostly by Shuri) when he was frightened by hover-bikes, he was treated like the rest. The local boys liked to braid his hair, messing with the texture so different from their own hair. Shuri had sort-of adopted him as another brother. When T'Challa was too busy with his Kingly responsibilities to hang out with her, she would drag him through her lab by the hand, excitedly blabbering about inventions far too complex for his simple mind to grasp.

Despite being so welcomed, there were days when he didn't feel like he deserved the kindness they showed him. He'd murdered people, _important_ people, _innocent_ people. How could they look at him as if he hadn't? They looked at him as if he hadn't committed innumerable amounts of violent crimes.

It was one of those days when he was in this mindset that Shuri had brought him into the lab.

"So I was thinking of making an improvement to your arm," she was explaining as she sat him in a chair and got out a toolkit. "I know I managed to synthesize the senses in your arm by connecting it to your nervous system, but I found a way to improve your sense of touch. If my calculations are correct, then you'll be able to identify different textures."

He nodded absent-mindedly. Why she was spending so much time making improvements to his arm was unknown to him. He didn't deserve any of it, and it only made him feel guiltier. The people he'd killed never got this kind of treatment.

"Hello? Earth to Bucky, are you even paying attention to me?" Shuri was waving her hand in front of her face as she prepared to work on the arm.

Guilty realization washed over him, and without thinking he ripped the arm out of her grasp, standing up abruptly.

"Hey!" No one interrupted Shuri's work if they wanted to make it out alive. Her face softened, though, sensing something was wrong. "What's wrong?"

The gentle tone she used only made him feel worse. _I don't deserve any of this._ "It's nothing."

"That's not nothing! You're not even talking to me today!" She put down the tool she was wielding and crossed her arms. "I swear, Bucky, if you don't tell me what's going on right now then I'm stuffing you back in the ice!"

It didn't sound so bad - he didn't have to mull over his sins when he was under the cryogenics. Still, he sighed and answered her. "Why do you keep working on my arm?"

Her brow furrowed, and she almost looked a little hurt. "I was trying to make it better for you, but if you'd like to just keep it is for a while then that's fi-"

"No," he said quickly. "I mean why do you keep _helping_ me?"

The hurt look was replaced by one of confusion. "I don't understand."

Did he really need to explain himself further? This only proved how blind they all were to his haunting past. "I don't deserve any of this!" He nearly shouted it, and the room fell silent. Her lack of fear at his outburst made him more confused.

"Yes, you do." She said quietly, but in the deadly-silent room, it was clearly audible.

"Don't you know what I've done?!" He was ranting now, pacing back and forth. "I've murdered people, good people. I've killed heroes and world leaders. People that would have made a _difference._ But I killed them. Now I'm here, living in the most beautiful place I've ever seen and getting pampered, while they're all _dead_ because _The Winter Soldier_ put an end to their lives."

"Sit," she commanded, gesturing to the chair. When he didn't she insisted more firmly, " _Sit. Down."_

He complied, taking the seat he had been in a few minutes prior. Now, she rested her hands on his shoulder and leant over him. "You deserve this." She gave him a look before he could open his mouth. "I never cared about the Winter Soldier. He murdered all of those people you just said, and so I killed him. _You are not the Winter Soldier._ You are Bucky Barnes, White Wolf, and the older brother I never had."

"You have an older brother-"

"Hush," she shushed him once again. "The Winter Soldier was the people who did those horrible things - you are another one of their victims. I am going to help you because I care about you, Bucky. Do you understand?"

He nodded. He'd tried telling himself that in the past, but it just felt like he was trying to play the victim card. Hearing someone else say it changed his perspective a bit. "Yes," he answered.

"Good," she said, as she picked up her tool again. "Now, I'm going to rewire some parts of it so that-"

"Did you just make me sit down so you could be taller?" he asked suspiciously.

"Maybe," she answered. "-so that you'll be able to tell the difference between stone and soil. Maybe if I get it advanced enough, you'll be able to tell the difference between cloths…" She continued talking, occasionally asking him questions and going about business as usual.

It was a comfort, one that he hadn't had in a long time.

* * *

 **First one is short but sweet. And I beg you, please leave requests! I don't know what you guys want to read, otherwise!**


	2. Guitar Solo

Requested by Beachgirl25: _Shuri catches Bucky lip syncing and playing air guitar_

* * *

 **2\. Guitar Solo**

It was no secret that Bucky was having a hard time adjusting to his new life. After spending so long tortured, manipulated as a weapon, on the run, and having no clue who he was, it was definitely understandable.

Everyone in Wakanda tried their hardest to make him feel at home. He was welcome anywhere, and no one held any prejudices against him or judged him for a past he had no control over. They were much too progressive for that, anyways.

While everyone gave him a very warm welcome, no one fought as hard to make him included and feeling at home as Shuri did. As he was her project, she felt that her job wasn't done when she fixed his brainwashing; she had to restore Bucky Barnes to his best self. It was also possible that she had grown quite attached to her adoptive brother. She assured him that he was always welcome in her lab, and when he came in she made a point to show him what she was working on and find little jobs for him to do.

Today, however, she was extraordinarily busy. The list of projects she had to work on was extensive. It seemed like everyone wanted something fixed at the moment. Shuri being Shuri, she couldn't just fix it, though - she had to improve it. So when he wandered into her lab and she was in the middle of something she couldn't leave, she felt rather guilty.

"Bucky," she greeted with a smile as she kept tinkering away. So much as looking away for even a second could ruin the complicated mechanics. "How's it going? Is the arm working well?"

Of course, she didn't have any time to modify the arm today. Unless… _No, Shuri. Focus._

He replied, "The arm's fine, thanks. I'm doing well." He walked over to see what she was dong. "You look… busy."

"I am," she answered. "Very, very busy!"

"You want me to go, so you can focus?" He asked, not wanting to be a burden.

She shook her head, careful to keep her hands steady. "No, stay. You're always welcome here." She gave him a smile, and looked up long enough to see him reciprocate it. Making him smile was another priority - he didn't do it nearly often enough.

"Okay."

"Turn on some music," she said. She'd been wanting to listen to some, but hadn't had the chance to get up and turn it on for a while. "Track 7."

He walked over to her computer system. It was far more complicated that he thought he'd ever be able to work, but he did know one small part of it. She'd taught him how to turn on the music a long time ago, saying it was "The only important thing on here." He highly doubted that, considering how many innovative new things she had created using the device. But the girl did like her music.

Aside from the music, the room was silent for a bit. Finally, the tedious project was finished and she was able to remove her hands from it. She turned to him, about to tell him all about her success when she saw a sight that made her stop.

He was moving his hands, playing the air guitar to Brothers Osborne and nodding his head along to it. One hand strummed while his metal one fingered invisible frets. What more, he was _lip-syncing._

Were this T'Challa, she would be instantly whipping out a camera to video. It would work fabulously as blackmail - what king wanted their people to see them playing air guitar? This wasn't T'Challa, though. It was her other brother, the one who so rarely smiled and was just learning how to be himself again.

So instead of videoing the spectacle, she leapt from her seat to run and slide across the floor on her knees, over to where he was sitting. She violently headbanged as she shredded the guitar solo. He laughed as she continued, rolling around on the floor while playing her imaginary guitar.

She noticed with a smile that he was grinning, still air-rocking out on his own guitar. Once the chorus started up again, she sang in a very off-key voice, " _I got my hands up, I need an alibi, find me a witness who can testify."_ He dropped his 'guitar' to start clapping along, as their show continued.

It wasn't until she was halfway through her drum solo that she noticed her other brother smirking in the doorway, holding a camera.

"T'Challa!" she shouted. "Delete that right now!"

"Never," he grinned. "This is going on my Instagram."

She got up off the floor and broke into a sprint, charging towards him. His smug expressing faltered as he turned and fled. "You can't run forever, _ubhuti_!" she called out as she chased.

Bucky was left in the lab, chuckling to himself. He hadn't allowed himself to be _silly_ in quite a while, and with Shuri and her brother it just felt natural.

* * *

So it's short, but I think it turned out ok? It was definitely fun to write, and since school is out now, I plan on continuing this oneshot series.


	3. Attention

3 times Bucky took over T'Challa's brotherly duties when he was busy, and the one time T'Challa noticed.

* * *

 **Attention**

1.

She'd finally completed the project she'd devoted herself to for the past two days. Long nights in the lab and heaps of frustration from just trying to figure out why it wasn't working exhausted her. But when it was done, she felt refreshed. She always felt this way after inventing - she had felt it when she was six and created a new spearhead for the Dora Milaje, and she felt it now.

She immediately rang T'Challa, wanting to show him. It was _for_ him, anyways.

He answered the holographic call. "Shuri?"

"T'Challa! I've finished it!" She beamed, not able to wait another second for him to come see it.

"That's great!" He smiled.

"Come down! I want you to try it out, and I'm sure there are still lots of other ways I can improve it, but it works!"

"Oh, er-" He scratched his head. "I actually have a meeting with one of our potential business partners. Everett Ross is getting us a plane as we speak…"

"Oh." Her brow furrowed, shocked. He'd never turned down a visit to her lab.

"I'm sorry, sisi. You understand, don't you?" He looked genuinely guilty.

She was disappointed, but tried not to show it. He was king now, and had responsibilities to the whole of Wakanda. Her inventions weren't so much of a priority. "I understand, T'Challa. Some other time," she sighed as he hung up.

She looked down at the invention, frustrated. She'd worked so hard to finish them quickly, and now what? He wouldn't even see them for a while.

"Hey, Shuri." A new voice called as he walked through the lab. He'd spent a lot of time in there as she made countless adjustments to his new arm, and she'd assured him that he was always welcome to it… as long as he didn't touch anything.

She turned to him, hiding her disappointment that her brother wasn't coming and smiled. "Bucky, you are my new brother today because T'Challa is annoying me."

Despite the confusion, he wore a half-smile. "Um, alright." He followed as she grabbed his hand and drug him over to a table.

"Now this, is the invention of the week!" She said dramatically. "Ta-da!"

He had to squint and lean over the table to look at it. He tried to look impressed, but failed. "Wh-what is it?"

She laughed at his cluelessness - T'Challa would've done the same. "Such simple minds," she rolled her eyes. "Here," she picked up one of the small black stickers, and as she did it shimmered purple in the way that only vibranium could. She placed it on one of the knuckles of his flesh arm, smoothing it down. He watched in wonder as it changed color to his skin tone. It was now indiscernible to the rest of his skin.

She put the rest on his knuckles, and they did the same. "Now, make a fist and clench it."

He did so, a little wary but trusting her. As he did so, he nearly jumped in shock. Panther claws unsheathed, molding to his fingers. Examining them he said, "That's amazing." How they could fit into the little sticker was unknown to him.

"Nano-bot technology," she explained. "I've had it around for a while, but it's a bit trickier to figure out with vibranium."

He looked at her, and she looked ready to jump up and down. He smiled - she was truly brilliant. He'd never met anyone with her smarts before, not even Stark. "That's- wow," he breathed. Any way he moved his fingers, the claws were there.

"Will you help me run a few tests?" she asked him.

"Of course," he answered quickly. "It would be an honor."

* * *

2.

"Stupid Mother," Shuri stomped through her lab. "I hate her," of course, she loved her mother very much. However, at this very moment, she was being highly unreasonable. "I always get out of it; why must I go to this one?!"

"Maybe she's not as smart as you, doll, but I think Mother Ramonda is far from stupid," Bucky's voice drawled.

She jumped, turning to him and clutching her heart. "Stop scaring me!" Sure, she'd told him that the lab was always open to him, but today she was in a mood. Politeness be damned. She may be a princess, but she was pissed off.

"What's up?" he asked, wondering what could put her in such a mood.

She wanted to make him prod further, work for his answers, but she was desperate to spill this time. She needed someone to rant to, and he was here. "There's this dumb ball coming up, to improve relations with neighboring countries now that we've come out of the shadows. _Mother_ for some reason, expects me to go. Not only that, but she insists that I take place in the stupid sibling dance! 'It's _tradition,'_ apparently. But I don't actually know how to dance - not like that anyways. It's the twenty-first century! No one does! But still, I go to T'Challa and ask him to teach me. But he says he's too busy preparing. So now what - youtube?"

He was laughing by the end of her rant. "If you need someone to teach you dance the old-fashioned way, I'd be happy to."

"Really?" she asked.

"Sure," he said. He pulled up the music on her computer, the only program he knew how to work. He dramatically bowed and held his hand out. "Care to dance, princess?"

She rolled her eyes at his antics. "Yeah, yeah. Sure, whatever."

"Usually the girls are a little more enthusiastic when I ask them to dance," he teased.

"Bucky, I'd love to dance with you," she deadpanned.

"We'll work on that part." He led her to the middle of the room, placing one of her hands on his shoulder and taking the other, putting his flesh hand on her waist.

"Now step like this," he directed. "No, no, that way," he kept leading patiently, as she stepped all over his toes and everywhere else. They danced until she finally learned the steps and could do an entire song without stumbling.

"See, it's not that bad," he said when they finished. "You've got the hang of it."

"Half an hour later," she mumbled, before perking up. "Thank you, Bucky! I thought it was hopeless."

"You're welcome."

"Now, I have to teach you a little something called the Milly Rock…"

Mother Ramonda watched from the doorway, smiling. Her new adopted son, though she didn't think he saw himself in that role yet, fit in with the family perfectly. As she watched him teach Shuri patiently, she knew that he was a blessing to the family.

* * *

3.

The ball was extravagant. Bucky wore a suit, mostly sitting in the corner as the rest of the family socialized. Since Wakanda had opened up to the world, they welcomed people from other nations into the ball. It was meant to bring peace, and it looked like they were succeeding.

Shuri wore a beautiful dress, very Wakandan. Her hair was pinned up on her head, and her makeup done by a professional. Despite looking beautiful as ever, she was ready for it to be over. Her corset was painfully meshing her spleen and her kidneys into one, and the foreigners she was being forced to play nice with were boring. She'd rather be watching vines.

Mother Ramonda's voice echoed around the room, "It is time for the family dance! Grab a family member and bring them out on the dance floor."

She went to seek out T'Challa, spotting him a little ways away. "T'Challa, you can see that I've finally learned to dance." She grabbed his arm and started pulling him towards the floor.

"Actually, Shuri…" he stopped, rubbing his neck.

"What is it?" she asked. "Don't tell me you don't know how." Oh, he would never live that down.

"Lady Daya's father just passed, and she's here all alone," he trailed off. "I was going to dance with her, so she wouldn't feel bad."

Her face fell. "Okay," she looked down.

"You understand, don't you? It's just-"

"I get it," she interjected quickly. "Don't act like not dancing with me is hurting my feelings; I'm sure that I'll be better off without you stepping all over my toes."

"Thank you, Shuri," he sighed in relief, and she waved it off.

Sitting in one of the chairs, she was approached by her favorite white man.

"All that hard work and you're not dancing?" he asked, one brow raised in the way she hated because she could never get hers do move independently.

"T'Challa is dancing with someone else, and Ubaba…." she trailed off, not sure how to put it. It was still hard to talk about "Ubaba is gone."

"Dance with me," he said.

"Really?" she asked, looking up at him.

"I thought I was your new brother when T'Challa annoyed you?"

She stood up suddenly, taking his hand and leading him over to the floor. "Yes, you are." He had been so quiet through the event that she thought he'd gotten bored and left. If she have to freedom to go, she would have a long time ago. Maybe that was why she didn't….

They started dancing, as rehearsed. This time there was no toe-stepping, and she danced gracefully. He twirled her slowly, allowing her to show off her new skills.

She received numerous compliments for her dancing, which she didn't really care about because everyone here was incredibly boring. Still, it might have been _a little_ fun, and maybe she didn't wish she was in her room watching vines so much anymore.

* * *

+1

Bucky had stayed behind, volunteering to help with the cleanup. It eased his conscience to make himself useful in his new home, so he gave himself as many responsibilities as he could. The royal family assured him that it wasn't necessary, but he still liked to do it.

"I saw you with Shuri tonight," T'Challa's voice greeted him.

He turned from where he was stacking plates to see the king walking towards him, a smile on his face. "Yeah, um, I just thought since you were-"

"It was very nice of you to do. Thank you," T'Challa patted him on the shoulder.

"You're welcome, but it was my pleasure."

"You know, she calls you her favorite brother," he laughed.

Bucky smiled. "I thought that was just when she was annoyed with you."

He turned serious. "No, you are her brother now no matter what. I hope you know that."

He wasn't quite sure how to respond to that, so he just nodded.

"I've been busy lately," T'Challa sighed, running a hand along the fine tablecloth. "I've been neglecting my family responsibilities to take care of other matters."

"Well, understandably. I'd imagine being king is a pretty busy job."

T'Challa nodded, chuckling. "You have no idea. I came here to thank you, actually."

Bucky furrowed his brow. "What for? I haven't really done anything."

"For being there for Shuri when I cannot." He replied. "I haven't had much time for my sister lately, but I feel better knowing that she has you when I am too busy. Thank you, Bucky."

He waved it away. "You don't need to thank me - I should be thanking you for letting me into your amazing family."

It was the first time Bucky had really spoken like he knew he was a part of the family, causing T'Challa to smile and step forward, hugging the other man. "Of course, ubhuti."

* * *

So it was supposed to be a 5+1 but I ran out of ideas, and I wanted them to all be connected in some way. Plus, I didn't want to run through all of my oneshot ideas in one go. XD

Please leave suggestions!


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